


He Wore Them

by NephilimEQ (orphan_account)



Category: Psych
Genre: M/M, Teasing, panty!kink, unashamed smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-17 23:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7291096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/NephilimEQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn had twirled a pair of pink panties around his finger this morning after Lassiter had stepped out of the shower, and had jokingly said, "Dare me to wear these out today?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Wore Them

 

** **

 

** He Wore Them **

Lassiter bit back the sound that wanted to escape when he saw Shawn lean over, a sliver of pink satin showing along the edge of the top of his jeans. He was wearing them. He was fucking _wearing_ them. It took all of Lassiter's self-control to not drag the fake psychic to the nearest empty interrogation room, strip those jeans off of him, and fuck him senseless. He knew that Shawn would be more than fine with that particular arrangement. Hell, it was probably what he was hoping for.

With that in mind, Lassiter focused instead on the file in his hand, but from the corner of his eye he saw Spencer hike up his jeans and then smirk in his direction. Oh, yeah. He knew what he was doing.

The detective turned away, and looked over the arrest report, purposely avoiding any line of sight with his boyfriend. No one at the precinct knew about the two of them, so he actively kept up the animosity between them at work, which wasn't all that difficult. Shawn got off on it, actually...and, though Lassiter would never admit it out loud, so did he.

The tension from their "arguments" built up beautifully, so that by the time they made it back to Carlton's place in the evening, they were both very ready to go.

The panties were a new addition to their, uh, activities. So far, they had kept it in the bedroom, but this was something unexpected and new for Lassiter.

Shawn had twirled a pair of pink panties around his finger this morning after Lassiter had stepped out of the shower, and had jokingly said, "Dare me to wear these out today?" and he had replied, also jokingly, "Sure, Spencer. And I'll fuck you at the station."

And with that, he thought it was the end of it. But now _this_. God, it shouldn't have been so hot, but it was. And it was definitely working on him, as a certain part of him was currently attesting to.

And that was when it hit him. Wait...did that mean Spencer was expecting him to...? Oh, holy hell. Yes. He was.

Grinding his back teeth, Lassiter took a deep breath and counted backwards from twenty, trying to settle the adrenaline that was suddenly rushing through his bloodstream. God, that was the only rule he had: no sex in public...but now this. He couldn't go back on his promise, or else Shawn would hold it over him forever.

Just as he deemed it safe to turn around, he felt a brush of hot air against his neck, and he knew who it was.

"So, Lassi...do you like them?"

He was ready to strangle him.

"Spencer," he hissed under his breath. "You're getting punished when we get home. Understood?"

Spencer then whispered, "Oh, I bet I am...but are you sure you can wait that long, Lassi?"

He was going to kill him.

Just as he was about to deliver a scathing retort, Juliet walked over, giving Shawn a look as she said, "I found the address of our witness. Should we check it out?"

Spencer pirouetted in place and started to open his mouth, but Lassiter quickly cut him off.

"You check it out, O'Hara. I need to take care of a few things here at the station."

Surprised, but obviously pleased that Lassiter was letting her do it on her own, she turned and walked away, unknowingly leaving behind an emotional storm behind her. Lassiter firmly grabbed Shawn's wrist and dragged him through the station, no one paying much attention to it as they were used to seeing the Head Detective manhandle the SBPD psychic on a regular basis.

He proceeded to drag him down to one of the lesser used interrogation rooms, and then locked the door behind them with one hand as he shoved Spencer with his other hand, forcing him to sit on the edge of the table.

"Damn you, Shawn," he growled, just as he leaned in and claimed the younger man's mouth with his own. Fuck, he tasted good.

He ran his hand down to the back of Spencer's jeans, and groaned when his fingers hit satin.

" I can't believe you actually wore these..."

Shawn moaned into his neck, one of his hands untucking Lassiter's shirt and sliding underneath, and breathed out, "The opportunity for you to fuck me at the station was too good of an offer to pass up."

Carlton smirked.

"Oh, really?"

Suddenly, Shawn was turned around and bent in half over the table, ass in the air. Lassiter hooked his fingers in the well-worn belt loops and dragged the jeans down the psychic's legs, pooling at his feet. Lassiter enjoyed the view of seeing the younger man's best asset so beautifully encased in pink satin. He rubbed a hand over it, wondering why he'd never thought of it before. He snuck a finger just under the edge and ran it down the cleft of his ass…and let out another groan when he felt the other surprise Shawn had for him.

He was wearing a fucking butt plug. From the feel of it, it was the new one that they’d purchased only two weeks before. It was large. An inch and a half wide and four inches long, it kept Shawn nice and ready for him, and he couldn’t take it any longer.

In one gesture, he yanked the panties down and revealed the blue rubber peeking out between his cheeks, teasing him.

“Fuck, Shawn…I am going to take you right here and now.”

“God, yes…”

Wanting to tease him a bit longer, he slowly pulled on the plug and then shallowly thrusted it a few times, grinning as Shawn writhed beneath him, his hips moving back into his hand, fucking himself on the tapered end of the plug that nailed against his prostate with every hit. He finally pulled it out and then used his free hand to unzip his pants and pull himself out. Without preamble, he lined himself up and slid in, both of them letting out low grunts of satisfaction as Lassiter’s cock fit tightly into Shawn’s ass.

Reaching around, Lassiter wrapped his hand around Shawn’s cock.

He lost himself in the feeling of doing his boyfriend on an interrogation room table, a deep-seeded fantasy of his for quite some time, if he was being honest about it.  The slow screwing, however, quickly turned into furious fucking, both of them biting back their usually quite vocal responses. Lassiter slid in and out relentlessly, pounding his boyfriend’s ass into submission. Shawn writhed beneath him and his breath hitched as Lassiter’s fingers tightened on his hardened erection, more out of reflex than out of any instinct to get his partner off.

All too quickly, as he was oversensitive from the silicone that had been resting against his prostate for the last hour, the psychic detective came undone, clenching and spilling all over Lassiter’s fingers, and Lassiter soon followed, both of their bodies trembling from the sheer sensations that shot through them in glorious, almost painfully pleasurable aftershocks.

They settled, and Lassiter slowly pulled out and quickly slid the plug back in.

“You get to feel me all day, Shawn,” he drawled, lightly smacking Spencer on the ass. Spencer shivered and then reached down and pulled both the panties and his jeans back up his legs, Carlton doing the same, both of them shifting everything back into place. As Shawn turned, he let out a low groan and supported himself on the edge of the table.

“Fuck…I can still feel it in me, Carlton.”

The detective leered.

“That’s the point, Shawn.”

He drew him back up into a dirty kiss, their tongues tangling with renewed passion, Carlton teasingly biting at Spencer’s lower lip, knowing how much it got to him. The psychic let out a needy little mewl as he pulled away, his hands grabbing at Lassiter’s hips, drawing his already once more hardening erection up against him.

“No, don’t go…”

Lassiter arched an eyebrow.

“I have to.” He pulled Spencer’s hips tighter up against his own and then reached around and a resounding slap echoed through the room as he hit his ass with perfect precision, causing Shawn to whimper and lean into him, his legs turning to jelly at feeling the plug inside of him easily slide deeper, the hot wetness of Carlton’s spunk aiding the motion.

Carlton felt himself hardening even more as he saw the needy and wrecked look on Shawn’s face, and then Shawn said…

“Let me suck you, Lassi…please…”

The thought of the psychic on his knees with his spent seed and a butt plug still in his ass…he found that he was unable to find it in himself to refuse, so he wordlessly nodded and tried not to react to the sight of Shawn dropping to his knees in front of him. Spencer deftly undid the pants that he’d just put back together only moments before, the younger man’s fingers easily pulling him out, wrapping firmly around the base of his cock, his mouth sinking down with no warning.

Carlton gasped at the feeling of the hot, tight, wet suction that pulled on his cock, Spencer’s mouth doing the one that it did better than talking: giving great head. Spencer gave him no time to catch up, his tongue running along the vein on the underside, the fingers of his free hand gently tugging on Carlton’s balls. Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. Carlton’s knees nearly buckled as Shawn took him deeper, his cock hitting the back of Spencer’s throat. Thank god the psychic had no gag reflex.

All too soon, he was coming in his mouth, and Shawn…the good boy that he was…swallowed every drop.

He pulled off and then gently tucked Lassiter back into his pants, and then stood up, licking the corner of his mouth, a smirk on his face.

“We need to do this again, sometime.”

Carlton gave him a look, an eyebrow arched.

“Only if you’re _very,_ very good, Shawn.”

Shawn smirked.

“Oh, you _know_ I am.”

With that, Carlton straightened his tie and glanced in the mirror, making sure that he didn’t look like that he’d just fucked the psychic, or that he’d just been given a _very_ well done blow job, and then gestured for Shawn to leave the room first.

As he followed out behind him, he bellowed, “Get out of my station, Spencer, or I’ll have you in handcuffs!”

Shawn smirked, but trotted out of the station as if nothing had transpired between them. The head detective headed for the break room, needing refreshment after their liaison and saw McNabb standing in front of the coffee machine, looking confused. Knowing he might regret it, Lassiter asked, “What’s wrong McNabb? No more cinnamon vanilla creamer?”

The cop shook his head.

“No…I’m just worried about O’Hara. She came back before she left said she needed to catch up with you before she checked out the suspect. I told her you went down the hall, and I just saw her a second ago and she looked like she had seen a ghost.”

Lassiter paled.

No…had she…was it possible?

Gulping, he dropped the snack bar that was in his hand and quickly made his way to her desk, and saw her sitting on the edge of it looking just as McNabb had described: like she’d seen a ghost.

“Uh…O’Hara…”

She held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t…please, don’t. I just…well…” She paused a long time, during which Lassiter shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like he’d been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Finally, she said, “You and Shawn? But…but you two hate each other.”

Lassiter shrugged.

“There’s a thin line between hate and…well, other things.”

She nodded.

“Uh huh, I’m seeing that now. Unfortunately.”

He waited a bit longer, wondering if she was going to say anything else, and just as he was about to speak up, she said, “This is going to sound a bit strange, but…I guess the two of you make a lot of sense. I mean,” she added, explaining, “He helps you loosen up, you help him take things more seriously, and if things progress further, I can see the two of you being really good parents.”

Whoa, what?

“Uh, O’Hara, Shawn and I aren’t--”

She cut him off. “Shawn? Since when do you call him by his first name?” She paused. “Oh, well, you did _before_ , earlier, when you two were…well…yeah. That.” She shook her head, as though trying to rid the image from her mind, and then said, “Look, I won’t tell anyone, but I think the Chief needs to know.”

Carlton let out a low groan, but nodded, and added, “Do you think I should tell her now?”

Juliet nodded.

“Might be a good idea. Oh, and Carlton?”

He glanced back at her.

“Yeah?”

She gave him a small smile.

“Tell Shawn that pink looks good on him.”

Lassiter smirked. Oh, he would.

  
  



End file.
